


stay by my side

by paranoid_fridge



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Break-Up, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sappy Schmoop, after episode 11, and exasperated!yakov, and then get their happy ending, cameos by protective!yurio, highly entertained!Chris, melodramatic ice skating, they cry and kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 17:52:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8926588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paranoid_fridge/pseuds/paranoid_fridge
Summary: “Finally!” somebody shouts and Yuuri jumps. Russian Yuri stomps toward him, expression dark. “He's on his third round of that.” Yuri jerks a thumb to the rink behind his back. “Make him stop before he hurts himself.”
Aka Yuuri says "let's end this", Viktor turns to melodramatic skating, they get to cry and kiss (in that order) and all is well in the end.





	

**Author's Note:**

> whoops, I wasn't planning to write this... but those two are just too adorable, and I'm really, really looking forward to them having a happy ending tomorrow. Meanwhile, this is my (melodramatic) take on how they could get there. 
> 
> (also somebody please help me coming up with titles.

“When the final is over,” Yuuri says with his eyes fixed to the thick carpet of their hotel room floor. It’s a rather ugly pattern, but if asked later he couldn’t recall it at all. His fingers tighten unconsciously around his mobile. “Let's end this.”

He hears Viktor suck in a shocked breath. Hunches his shoulders. Yuuri doesn't want to look up, though he knows he should. So many things weigh on his mind, so many things he should tell Viktor. But his tongue lies in his mouth like lead; thick and unmoving.

The silence stretches painfully. A hitch in Viktor’s breath, the shifting of fabric. He really should explain himself.

“What do you … Yuuri, I don't understand,” Viktor manages with a shaky voice, his accent thicker than usual. From the corner of his eye Yuuri can see one pale hand leave the bed cover, rising - but Yuuri can't bring himself to look up.

“It's for the best,” Yuuri says, the excuse sounding tired to his own ears. If he could, he'd keep Viktor at his side forever. But he's already guilty for keeping Viktor shackled to his side for so long.

“What do you mean?” Viktor asks with a note of despair. “Did I … is this…”

Not at all, Yuuri thinks. These last months have been exhilarating, amazing, and probably the best time in Yuuri’s life.

“No, this … you have been fantastic, really. The best coach I could have wished for,” Yuuri says and forces a smile onto his protesting lips. Having this conversation today is another bad decision - he should have waited until after the final, but he’s never had good timing. “It's been a dream come true.”

“Then why, Yuuri? Why?” Viktor pleads to know.

And because Yuuri isn't lifting his head, Viktor drops to the ground before him, maneuvering his way right into Yuuri’s line of sight. His eyes are red-rimmed and shine with unshed tears. Yuuri’s heart clenches. He's never wanted to cause pain.

Which is why he can't keep doing this. Keeping Viktor with him, keeping him always at his side when there is a whole world waiting for him - it's like making him a prisoner.

Yuuri has realized that too late. He doesn't think Viktor himself has realized it yet. But others have - it’s why Yurio was so angry, and Chris and JJ both called it out. Not seriously, but to all of them Yuuri is the person who stole Viktor from the ice. Rather like some fairytale villain snatching up the princess.

“Yuuri?” Viktor asks again, quietly. Yuuri can see sad acceptance dawn on his face and he wants to do nothing rather than lean down and kiss it away.

Viktor swallows audibly. “If that's what you want… of course. I'm not … I will not…” He shakes his head, forces himself to smile wryly despite the pain. “I'm sorry, Yuuri. Maybe we should have this conversation another time? I think I … need to sort out my thoughts."

Viktor straightens up and this time Yuuri’s gaze follows him. The other skater already has turned his gaze away, a cool mask slipping over his features.

Viktor hardly ever speaks of his own feelings; Yuuri has noticed that. That mention alone speaks volumes about how badly Yuuri hurt him.

And so Yuuri does nothing when the hotel room door shuts behind Viktor just moments later. 

* * *

 

The passage of time after is hazy. Yuuri’s thoughts swirl, but don't focus. He puts a playlist on - instrumental, soothing music and continues to stare into nothingness.

He loves Viktor. Now even more than before. Loves his nearly childish enthusiasm for new discoveries, the small quirk of his lips when something amuses him, the spark in his eyes.

And that's why he can't keep him. Viktor loves skating, loves the world, and Yuuri will not take that from him.

He tells himself it's the right decision.

Then he picks up his phone and nearly drops it.

35 missed calls. 47 text messages. 16 notifications. 4 emails.

Yuuri swallows. His hand shakes, but he forces himself to be brave and look.

The missed calls are from Phichit, Chris, and Yurio. The same three are also responsible for the barrage of messages.

JJ tagged him on Instagram, and once the post loads it all falls into place.

The picture has been taken at a distance, but the figure on the ice is immediately recognizable. Silver hair glints under the lights of the practice rink, and Yuuri’s heart clenches.

“A familiar figure appears,” JJ has commented his own picture. “Is somebody preparing to return next season?”

Yuuri bites down on his lip. Viktor should, he knows. Viktor was born to skate, he should be out there, and Yuuri’s heart really has no business aching at the idea. He makes to toss his phone aside, bury his head under a pillow.

Instead it rings in his hand and Yurio’s picture appears on the display.

Yuuri sighs.

He needs to face this.

“Hello?”

“About time, what the hell were you doing, piggy?! I thought you were dead! Fuck, you’d better be!” Yuri shouts from the other end, loud and upset. “And you know what, if you're not dead I'm going to come up there and kill your ass if you're not coming down here now!”

Yuuri manages to make an odd, squeaky noise.

“Fucking move!” Yuri roars with unbridled fury. “Get down here and get your stupid boyfriend of the ice before that idiot breaks something!”

Viktor.

Yuuri’s blood runs cold.

“I'm coming,” he whispers and hangs up, cutting off Yuri’s last promise of painful dismembering halfway through. His eyes fly to the clock - how long since Viktor left?

It stands to reason he went to skate, Yuuri thinks, as he blindly grabs a jacket and the keycard and dashes out in his hotel slippers. Though it's odd that he didn't go drinking - and it leaves Yuuri with a ball of unease coiled in his stomach that makes him run as fast as he can.

The practice rink sits in a smaller hall right next to the main contest hall on the other side of a road. A few cars honk at Yuuri as he stumbles across the road, but he pays them no mind.

Panting, he bursts through the door.

The hall is dimly lit, the ranks empty. But down on the ice, an intimately familiar figure skates elegantly across, moving to an inaudible, but painfully familiar song. Yuuri’s heart clenches.

“Finally!” somebody shouts and Yuuri jumps. Russian Yuri stomps toward him, expression dark. “He's on his third round of that.” Yuri jerks a thumb to the rink behind his back. “Make him stop before he hurts himself.”

Yuuri’s throat runs dry. Third round - the program is demanding, he knows that all too well, and there's a reason why most skaters rarely do more than one or two full runs of their programs in one day. He gives a shaky nod to Yuri who glowers until Yuuri starts to move.

His slippers make hardly a sound, while Yuri stomps after him, keeping close as if to not let Yuuri run away if he chose to.

He couldn't. An invisible thread pulls him forward, and in his heart worry wars with fascination. Viktor glides across the ice, perfectly poised, showing no indication of exhaustion.

Yuuri's breath hitches when Viktor gains speed; his own feet falter. “Oi, move,” Yuri complains and elbows Yuuri’s back. Below on the ice, Viktor does a triple toe loop and lands it perfectly.

He may be even skating better than in any competition.

This is why Yuuri can't keep him, he thinks and despair claws at his chest. Can't continue this. Seeing Viktor skate gives him goosebumps, reminds him what he has stolen from the world.

“Ah, Yuuri,” somebody greets. Yuuri has almost reached the entrance to the rink, and only now notices the two shadowed figures standing there. Yakov has his arms crossed before his chest and watches Viktor with a deep frown, while Chris gives Yuuri a small wave and forces a smile. “Good you got here. We got everybody out.”

Viktor drifts a little closer, yet pays no mind to his audience. But it's enough for Yuuri to see the sweat on his skin, and the flush on too pale cheeks.

He's exhausted. Possibly over-straining himself.

And with every jump he attempts in this condition the odds of falling and injuring himself grow.

Yuuri’s heart skips a beat.

“I …” he begins, unsure what to say.

“Stop him,” Yuri growls. “He's not listening to any of us.”

Chris claps his shoulder. “Little fairy here is right. Go there. Get him.”

Yuuri wants to protest. He's wearing hotel slippers; his skates are in their room - but then Viktor does another leap, and Yuuri realized that time is running out.

“Viktor,” he calls, and stumbles onto the ice. Of course, the slippers have no profile and he slides and windmills with his arms. But he knows the program by heart and gets right into Viktor’s path.

“Viktor, stop!”

He sees Viktor’s eyes widen in realization a split second before he crashes into Yuuri. They go down in a tangle of limbs - and while Yuuri instinctively tries to cushion Viktor’s fall, the other attempts to do the same for him. They hit the ice.

“Are you alright?” Chris shouts the same time as Yuri exclaims a high-pitched “Viktor!”, and footsteps pound on the ice.

Yuuri sits up, rubbing his hip that cushioned most of his fall, and glances up to see Chris sliding over, concern and surprise on his face. Outside the rink, Yakov looks grim, and Yuuri immediately glances to Viktor. Who is rubbing his head, but sitting and seemingly alright except for a rather terrible pallor.

“You alright?” Chris inquires, stopping at a distance. Yuuri gives a tentative nod, and then observes from the corner of his eye how a familiar mask slips over Viktor’s face.

“Yes, apologies for worrying you,” he says and inclines his head. His voice sounds worryingly thin and slightly confused. “Please, you have a competition tomorrow - go and rest. I'll … close up.”

Chris frowns and looks to Yuuri. Take care of this, he seems to say, before he agrees and turns to make his way off the ice. Yuuri doesn't know what he says to Yakov and the other Yuri, but when he later looks up all three have gone.

Now, he turns his attention on Viktor. And finds he still doesn't know what to say.

Viktor blinks, visibly gathering himself. A thin sheen of sweat covers his entire face, and up close Yuuri can see a minor tremor running through his hands. The fact that he has not immediately climbed to his feet is disconcerting.

Though Yuuri remains seated where he fell, too; just an arm’s length away from Viktor.

“I'm sorry,” he eventually manages, feeling ridiculous. Here he is, dressed in pajamas, a training jacket and hotel slippers, sitting on the ice. Viktor at least wears black training clothes.

The other sighs and looks away. “You did nothing wrong, Yuuri,” he says and runs a hand through his hair.

I hurt you, Yuuri thinks, and I never wanted that.

“Well, let's go back to the hotel,” Viktor suggests and finally makes to get up. His legs shake badly, Yuuri notices. “You need to sleep.”

“No,” Yuuri bursts out. He's not - well, he doesn't know what he is going to do, but he's not going to let Viktor brush this aside.

Blue eyes widen in surprise. “Huh?”

Yuuri swallows and ignores the cold creeping through the rather thin fabric of his pajama bottoms. “I mean I … we should talk about this.” His voice echoes oddly in the now empty rink. Or perhaps it’s his throat beginning to close up.

Viktor blinks. “Of course,” he agrees easily and Yuuri’s heart breaks to see his features settle into a mask once again. “We -”

Yuuri reaches up and catches hold of Viktor’s hand. “I'm sorry,” he starts and his eyes begin to burn. “I'm not good at expressing myself, you know that. And I … I never … I love you, you know that.” With his free hand Yuuri angrily reaches up to wipe the tears away before they can fall.

Viktor stares at him, stunned and surprised. The mask has disappeared. “You … but then why...?”

Yuuri laughs, pained and choking. “Because you're a wonderful human being, and I can't bear to keep you chained to me. I'm just a random skater, but you, you're a legend! There's so much you can do, so much out there for you.” He swallows down the bitter taste in his mouth. Ignores the hot tears now running over his cheeks. “The whole world is out there for you, and I won't be the one keeping you from it. That's why I'm ending this - I love you, and being with you has been the best thing to ever happen to me, but the world is waiting for you.”

For a moment the world holds its breath. Then Viktor drops back down to his knees with a thud. His fingers curl around Yuuri’s, a shaking, desperate grip. His eyes fill with tears.

“I'm sorry,” Yuuri mumbles, his vision obscured by tears he can't stop. His voice begins to choke, too. “I didn't want to hurt you, I …”

“Yuuri,” Viktor cuts him off, in a strangely nasal tone Yuuri hasn't heard before. “You … you …” He shakes his head, tries to blink away tears of his own, but they finally spill over. “You idiot.”

“I'm sorry,” Yuuri chokes out and hangs his head. Nearly immediately a trembling hand gently buried itself in Yuuri’s hair and tugs his head up.

“You don't understand,” Viktor says, his own lips quivering. “You … I'm sorry, you know. I'm sorry I never explained. But, Yuuri, I don't care about the world. I don't - there's nothing out there for me.”

“But your career,” Yuuri protests, subconsciously leaning into the touch.

Viktor scoffs. “Was bound to end, anyway.”

Yuuri thinks about Viktor’s form gliding over the ice just now, perfect down to the position of his fingers. “But -”

“No, Yuuri,” Viktor says with a small, exhausted smile. “It's done. I finally found the thing Yakov said I was always missing – and it’s not on the ice.”

Yuuri’s eyes widen.

“Shall I skate it for you, one more time? Stay close to me, don't leave me,” Viktor begins to hum the notes of his program. “Unlike Georgi I never had a concrete person to skate for - you changed that, Yuuri.”

He moves to stand, but Yuuri clamps down on him. Viktor has run through it almost three times - a fourth is courting serious harm.

“No, no,” he protests shakily. “I understand, Viktor, I get it.” And he does. Scarcely dares to believe it, but he does.

Viktor’s face falls. “Do you?” he asks quietly, and rubs at his own eyes. “I’m not … I don't want to force you to stick with me. But if you love me …” He swallows hard. “Please don't leave me.”

Yuuri’s heart breaks all over again. He no longer feels the cold. “But you … I'm holding you back.”

“Nonsense,” Viktor protests immediately. “Yuuri, you never … never held me back. You opened my eyes to the world - you know, ever since I began I barely thought about anything but skating. And when the end of my career came into sight I truly started to wonder what I would do, wonder if there was a purpose to my life beyond skating even… and then you came along.”

“Viktor…” Yuuri mumbles dumbstruck.

Viktor’s expression twists into a heartbreaking smile. “As long as I'm with you I have a purpose. And I don't care if you want to quit skating to become an ice fisher in Greenland or want to move into the Sahara, I just want to be with you.”

Yuuri’s expression crumbles. “I love you,” he sobs.

Viktor's hand gently wipes the tears from his cheeks. “Then don't leave. Stay with me,” he asks, drawing closer.

Yuuri throws himself forward and they latch onto each other in a painfully tight embrace. Yuuri cries into Viktor’s shoulder, while Viktor buries his own face in Yuuri’s hair.

“Please don't leave,” Viktor mumbles. “I love you, stay with me. Please don't leave me alone…” And Yuuri sobs harder.

Never, his heart cries out as he digs his nails into Viktor’s back. “Never,” he gasps out, fighting to control his breathing. “I'm never going to let go of you now.”

Viktor laughs at that, uneven and shaky, but Yuuri can hear the note of true joy underneath and his own heart lightens in turn.

They stay a while longer, but eventually gather themselves enough to make it off the ice. Yuuri is glad to find their small audience has left, but hopes they won't get yelled at by the rink management tomorrow.

It's not quite midnight, though Yuuri feels utterly worn out. Next to him Viktor sways with exhaustion, but their linked fingers give both of them the strength to totter back to the hotel. They draw a few curious glances in the lobby, though as far as Yuuri can tell no cameras go off. Once in their room, the collapse onto the bed simultaneously.

“Let's not do that again,” Viktor groans. 

Yuuri sighs in agreement and tightens his hold on Viktor’s hand.

* * *

 

They sleep in the next day and then share a leisurely breakfast. Yuuri feels better now, and there is a happy spark in Viktor’s eyes (that later earns Yuuri a nod of approval from Yakov of all people). Viktor complains about sore muscles and Yuuri scolds him, because really, he can be glad he didn't fall and hurt himself.

Viktor looks away and mumbles something about that not mattering.

Yuuri stops tying on his skates. “Viktor,” he says and beckons him to come closer. Then he grabs Viktor by the tie and pulls him down into a kiss. “It matters to me. A lot.”

And Viktor smiles at him, flushed and sheepish.

Yuuri lets go and stands up. “Let's go?” he suggests, linking his hand with Viktor’s. The other man smiles back.

A rare sense of confidence fills Yuuri today. Even as Chris gently teases them for their linked hands and Yurio hisses and the world whispers, he doesn't mind it. Maybe they think he was the one to steal Viktor from the ice.

(“Maybe I wanted to be stolen,” Viktor replies later when a journalist puts exactly that question to him.)

But they don't know it wasn't theft - it's love. And Yuuri will show it to the world.

_Fin_

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this (or simply want to scream), feel free to use to comment box XD


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